


Soufflé Wars

by hxllosweetie (glassandroses)



Series: Doctor Who Blurbs [19]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Baking, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Food, Food Fight, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26293033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassandroses/pseuds/hxllosweetie
Summary: After the Eleventh Doctor and Clara Oswald make a bet, the kitchen becomes war grounds for a food fight.
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Series: Doctor Who Blurbs [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910422
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Soufflé Wars

"Whoever makes the best soufflé wins."

It was a normal day at the Oswald-Smith house, morning cuddles, a bit of television, some competitive fighting which they tend to do a lot, whether it's "Who gets the telly remote?" or "Who has to get out of bed to answer the door?" It's always something with these two.

Clara smirked, she knew he couldn't beat her at her specialty in a million years. "Alright. You're on."

They both ran to the kitchen, grabbing the ingredients they needed and started to cook. The Doctor dropped a whole carton of eggs in his frantic rushing and Clara helped him to clean it up while laughing. They fought over mixing bowls, the microwave, just about everything they had in their kitchen. And then Clara got an idea.

She checked to make sure the Doctor wasn't looking. Happily, he wasn't. With his back turned away from her, he read a series of instructions from the iPad they had bought after they moved in together. She was proud of his advancements with human technology- outdated, he called it, but she was proud nonetheless.

Keeping as quiet as she could, Clara grabbed a handful of flour and edged towards him.

"Doctor?" She asked softly, hoping he wasn't distracted enough by his cooking that so that he would turn around.

"Hmm?" He replied, clearly distracted.

She spoke a little louder. "Doctor?"

'Yes?" Still not turning around.

She sighed. "Doctor!"

"What is it, Clara? I'm-ACK!" She threw the flour right on his face. He wiped it off with the back of his hand and death glared his wife. "You did not just do that."

"Oh, I think I did." She smirked and took off running toward the stairs, leaving him to trail close behind. She ran to their bedroom and pushed the door open, jumping onto the bed. She wasn't surprised when the Doctor burst in just after and jumped in right beside her. They were giggling like lovesick teens.

"Well, I don't think it's much fun when only one of us is covered in flour... but I can fix that." He smiled slyly and leaned in to kiss Clara, which she didn't object to. When they pulled away she had flour on her nose, forehead, and around her lips.

Clara giggled mischievously. "I have less flour on my face. I win."

"But-" The Doctor started.

"No buts. Now we don't have enough flour to finish the soufflés." She giggled through the exaggerated pout and put her head on his chest, getting flour on his shirt.

He sighed and kissed the top of her head. "Right you are, my Soufflé Girl." He put a hand on her stomach.

Clara looked down at her stomach, smiling. "Mommy's always right, isn't she Oswin?"


End file.
